


Rootkit

by Virtual Revolutions (maidendays)



Series: Hacking His Heart [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Card Games, Datastormshipping, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, MMORPG Logic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, RevoYu, Revsaku, Sex Toys, sort of canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 14:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12367602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidendays/pseuds/Virtual%20Revolutions
Summary: What if Revolver was really persistent about getting to know Playmaker?This is a direct follow-up to "Exploits". Please read that if you have not already.





	Rootkit

**Author's Note:**

> It's important to note that although this fic contains a paraphrased form of the Revolver vs Playmaker duel, it does not completely follow it. Most importantly Playmaker doesn't announce his Three Things at the end of it.
> 
> Since I've decided to follow canon (to a loose degree) please note that this fic pulls bits from VRAINS episodes 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15 and the backstory from 19. Canon-wise, it stops right before episode 16.

A week after his abduction at REVOLVER's hands, PLAYMAKER receives a message from an unidentified user code.

17:12:38 user_unknown:

Meet me at The Tower to Heaven tonight at midnight. I have a proposal for you.

Although the message itself is strange, for a moment he thinks it may be Kusanagi. They communicate anonymously like this sometimes to disguise their mission details from the SOL Technologies game moderators. PLAYMAKER stares at the message for a good half minute before he decides to respond.

17:13:42 PLAYMAKER:

I don't meet with strangers. Identify yourself.

17:14:03 user_unknown:

I wish to talk. I won't bring the rope this time.

A chill passes over his neck, and Yusaku recalls that he forgot to disable the hyper realistic sensitivity on the avatar.

17:14:10 PLAYMAKER:

Hanoi.

17:14:22 user_unknown:

In case you are not aware, Anon-san, equipables are automatically disabled in that area. It would be impossible to restrain you without your consent.

17:14:37 PLAYMAKER:

I don't doubt for a moment that you know a way to bypass that area's security measures. I will not meet with you. Delete my contact information.

17:14:59 user_unknown:

How cold. I do honestly wish to talk. There's no ulterior motive.

17:15:21 PLAYMAKER:

What could we possibly have to talk about? Duel me instead so I may have the pleasure of destroying you.

17:15:30 user_unknown:

But if you 'destroy' me then we wouldn't have an opportunity to talk. Log in without your duel disk. I'm not after the A.I. program at this time.

17:15:38 PLAYMAKER:

Even saying that you aren't doing this to steal IGNIS, are you seriously demanding that I approach you again without a means to defend myself? How stupid do you think I am?

17:15:43 user_unknown:

These are loaded questions. I don't wish to fight. We can save the antagonisms for daytime. You can trust me.

17:15:54 PLAYMAKER:

I have no reason to trust you. You must truly think me an idiot to agree to this.

17:16:09 user_unknown:

It matters not what you think I think. I'll be waiting. I hope to see you then, PLAYMAKER.

17:16:10 system message:

User has disconnected from the messaging system.

PLAYMAKER glares at the now blank message window floating before him. The nerve of that person….

Still, when he recalls the details of their last encounter, Yusaku can't fight off the small thrill that rushes through him.

010101110110100001111001001000000110000101110010011001010010000001111001

It's a busy evening. Yusaku and Kusanagi spend hours erasing PLAYMAKER's digital footprint from the internet. What is supposed to be a hour or two of work turns into four long hours when Kusanagi discovers that the notorious online treasure hunter GHOSTGIRL is attempting to auction off video of PLAYMAKER to the highest bidder.

Fortunately for them, Kusanagi manages to talk that user down and even exchanges LINK VRAINS contact information with them in exchange for a collection of data archives which GHOSTGIRL says contain encrypted messages between the Knights of Hanoi.

 _Unfortunately_ , the data doesn't contain anything they didn't already know, and worse still nearly a quarter of the archives are corrupted and therefore unreadable. Kusanagi, banging his fists on the computer console, swears up and down that they've been played, but Yusaku, moving Kusanagi's half full cup of coffee before it can be knocked over, only sighs at the frustrating predictability of it all. They haven't found anything concrete that would implicate the Knights in the project that bears their name, and they're getting desperate for answers.

At 11:49 that night Yusaku places Kusanagi's computer console in hibernation, drapes a blanket over the sleeping man, locks up the van from the inside, and makes the short trek home.

When he arrives a few minutes later, Yusaku kicks off his street shoes in the genkan, and shelfs his duel disk with care, sparing a small smile for the dozing A.I,, before he heads off to his bedroom and shuts the door.

11:58 and a choice: listen to the logical part of his brain that keeps repeating It's clearly a trap, Don't fall for it, or give in to his growing need for answers. Despite the risks involved, Yusaku is now convinced that REVOLVER must know _something_.

011011110111010100100000011100110110010101100001011100100110001101101000

Against his better judgment, PLAYMAKER materializes at the warp point outside of Den City's virtual red light district.

Although he's never been here, the area oftens appears in message transcripts between the Knight of Hanoi and other shady characters. Yusaku and Kusanagi have also gone through a number of detailed plans for LINK VRAINS's restricted zones, many of which came into their possession through their many data-seeking missions. Yusaku recalls that The Tower to Heaven — a place that he knows only by name, not nature — is located in an alley in the innermost sector of the red light district. It's an area that cannot be directly warped to unless the user has a premium private server membership, and is, therefore, one of many restricted LINK VRAINS zones which Yusaku has not been able to familiarize himself with. 

Forced to tread through the district's many provocatively gaudy boulevards, PLAYMAKER swats away popup advertisement after popup advertisement, loud and flashy banner ads that obstruct his view, promising a 'good time' at many of the district's host clubs, adult cafes and soaplands.

At one point he's approached by a pair of elf avatars in maid uniforms who say they're big fans of his and will waive their standard 10000 yen fee _just for him_. PLAYMAKER acts innocent, saying he doesn't know what 'service' they're offering and hurries away before they can start groping him.

In another part of the district he's ambushed by a group of female avatars in black patent leather catsuits and spiked jewelry. After repeatedly turning down their offers to _punish him_ , they reluctantly let him go, whining loudly about how _unfair_ it is that the Hero of LINK VRAINS can't spare a few minutes to play with them.

Beginning to wonder if he's lost, PLAYMAKER is relieved to see a white neon sign shaped like a pagoda at the end of a side alley. Flashing obnoxiously with a shrill buzz are the words 'The Tower of Heaven'.

When PLAYMAKER attempts to enter the space, however, he's stopped by a burly bouncer who asks if he's on _the list_.

"Don't you know who I am?" PLAYMAKER tries, finding the question utterly bizarre.

The bouncer snarls, barking at him, "Of course I know who you are, you cheeky little shit.... everyone's heard of PLAYMAKER, but this here is a private establishment, you feel me? Exclusive, members-only kind of place. No invitation, no admission."

"Are you being rude to my guest?" cuts in a familiar voice from within.

"My apologies, sir, I just assumed..." The bouncer falls to silence, giving PLAYMAKER an almost apologetic look before stepping aside without another word.

Brushing past the bouncer, PLAYMAKER steps into the establishment. He's greeted by a colorful wall of photos of male and female avatars in costumes, each one flashy and risqué. At least half of the avatars are anthropomorphic animals, and a good quarter of the photos are shot in the gravure style, some bordering on pornographic.

"What kind of place is this?" asks PLAYMAKER, meeting REVOLVER's blank gaze.

"What's it look like?"

"A host club?"

"Then that's what it is."

PLAYMAKER purses his lips, staring indifferently at REVOLVER who looks him over from hair spikes to boot tips. REVOLVER abruptly turns away, disappearing through a dimly-lit archway.

Hurrying to follow him, PLAYMAKER steps through the curtain to an expansive club floor absolutely packed with avatars. He counts a minimum of 30 tables, all of them spilling over with beautiful women and handsome men hanging off the arms of their patrons. Not a single seat is vacate at the bar that circles the floor. Above all of this is an exposed second floor, a half wall golden balcony-like railing encircling it nearly all the way around.

"Why here?" asks PLAYMAKER, sidestepping a particularly buxom women with big hair, bunny ears and a plunging neckline.

"SOL Technologies doesn't patrol the private server spaces in LINK VRAINS," responds REVOLVER in a flat tone, leading them through the main area with quick strides. "The owners of these unmapped areas pay a premium to keep their establishments and their customers out of the eye of the server administrators. My organization can come and go here without being harassed."

"You _shouldn't_ be allowed to just do whatever you wish. You're terrorists," says PLAYMAKER automatically, trying to keep up. "And you've just admitted that you're exploiting a loophole in the system in order to resist capture."

"Drop the heroics, PLAYMAKER," responds REVOLVER a split second later. "You're not going to turn me in."

"I'm not?" says PLAYMAKER by way of challenge, following REVOLVER up a staircase to the second floor.

"Not if you wish to hear my proposal."

"And what's that exactly?"

"Not here. Come on, just a little further ahead. Try to blend in, PLAYMAKER."

Walking all the way around the second floor, REVOLVER stops at the last door, labeled only with the number 18 engraved in gold. It's guarded by a single Knight, his arms crossed intimidatingly over his chest. The man bows to REVOLVER, whispering in his ear, acknowledging PLAYMAKER with a curt nod. PLAYMAKER, who spares a moment to look over the second floor's golden railing to the crowded first floor below, only gives the guard a cold stare back.

"Coming, PLAYMAKER?" REVOLVER calls out, pushing open the door, the guard holding it ajar.

A hideout for the Knights of Hanoi disguised as a bustling host club — or possible brothel, what does he know — in the virtual red light district in a sector that can't be warped to. He's in enemy territory without a plan, without a known escape route.

PLAYMAKER keeps calm as he follows REVOLVER through the door into a dimly-lit suite.

REVOLVER's voice lowers, almost to a growl. "Close the door, I don't want anyone to hear us. Don't worry, it only locks from the inside."

When the guard's arm drops away, PLAYMAKER shuts the door behind him, hearing it lock automatically. When he turns to face REVOLVER again, he's surprised to be bathed in blacklight, the glow turning everything a calming shades of lavender and blue.

REVOLVER, his white robes glowing faintly under the light, touches PLAYMAKER's cheek before crossing the room to a pair of armchairs. "Come, sit with me." REVOLVER's coat floats for a moment before he drops neatly into one of the chairs.

PLAYMAKER notes the fluorescent-fabric canopy queen bed in the corner of the room, and what may be a beverage bar next to it. "You want me... to _sit_ with you?"

"Would you rather stand and talk? Or is pillow-talk more of your thing?" REVOLVER smirks.

With a sigh PLAYMAKER takes the other armchair but avoids leaning back in it; he doesn't want to seem too comfortable. "So what's this proposal?"

"No-nonsense as expected." REVOLVER crosses one leg over the other and leans his elbow on the arm of the chair, somewhere between relaxed and haughty. "I suppose I should get directly to the point in that case."

PLAYMAKER stares at REVOLVER intently, waiting for the trap to spring. REVOLVER wouldn't be this cordial with him without reason.

"If you want an enemy to focus all your anger toward then I will be that enemy. I take no issue with being that person for you."

PLAYMAKER frowns. "Unless you're a means toward an end, you're not doing me any favors, Hanoi."

"Call me REVOLVER," there's a long pause, PLAYMAKER's frown deepens, REVOLVER leans his chin on his hand, "I'll be the villain to your hero. I'll put on a grand show for all of LINK VRAINS…. But at night, after everyone else has gone to sleep, I want a truce. I want to be alone with you like this. I want to speak candidly with you, and get to know the person behind the avatar."

PLAYMAKER shivers, caught off guard, a decade's old anxiety spiking in his chest. "What?"

REVOLVER's smirk disappears and he sits up straight in the chair. "I'm not sure what more I can say…"

PLAYMAKER shifts. Yusaku feels uneasy but doesn't truly understand _why_. He's in an unfamiliar location with _this_ person, but PLAYMAKER is only an avatar. He, Yusaku, is safe in the real world; he shouldn't feel so anxious. "That's certainly a departure from our last meeting…. I don't believe that all you want is to 'talk'. Last time you were rather _direct_."

"What do you want me to _say_ , Anon-san?"

PLAYMAKER narrows his gaze, but it's not in anger or irritation. REVOLVER's behavior is confusing and unexpected, and he doesn't like feeling like he's being handled delicately. Kusanagi, his teachers, his therapists, and the few kids he allowed near all treated him like he could shatter at any moment. He certainly doesn't want it from REVOLVER of all people.

"You held me hostage for over an hour and molested this avatar's body. I have no reason to trust you."

"That's true, but as I recall you got your revenge by the end of it."

PLAYMAKER tilts his head, eyeing the bed behind REVOLVER. "But you still want to fuck me, right? That's what you said last time."

REVOLVER is quiet for a long moment, the golden slits of his non-eyes staring intently, before he nods slowly. "I won't lie, Anon-san. You've been on my mind all week. I would absolutely _delight_ in fucking you, yes. But I would like for us to be on agreeable terms in general, and if all you'd wish to do is sit like this and talk then I will not complain."

PLAYMAKER gives REVOLVER an incredulous look. "I'm not understanding the appeal, and I'm beginning to believe your avatar is being impersonated by someone else."

REVOLVER snickers, behavior that is completely out of sync with the powerful and haughty persona PLAYMAKER remembers from their last encounter. Along with the perplexing manner in which REVOLVER worded his proposal, Yusaku picks up vibes that were completely absent in their last meeting: immaturity and vulnerability.

"This is a bizarre personality change," says PLAYMAKER without preamble.

REVOLVER takes a bit too long to respond. "What makes you say that?"

"Last time you were putting on a powerful show to intimidate and shame me, but now you're acting like a boy with a crush."

REVOLVER seems to be visibly shaken, but then he exhales and says, "Well perhaps I am."

PLAYMAKER slumps back in the chair, a bit taken back by what sounds an awful lot like an admission. He didn't expect his enemy to willingly offer up that sort of information. "If you're just a kid then none of this is acceptable."

REVOLVER shakes his head with a smug grin. "Look at you the caring netizen. PLAYMAKER: Defender of the Innocent."

PLAYMAKER feels heat rise to his cheeks. He really should have disabled this distracting realism. "Don't make it sound like you weren't the aggressor. I don't remember consenting."

"These are semantics honestly. I'm not going to argue over who tempted who, especially when it was _very_ clear to me that we both enjoyed that hour." REVOLVER seems all too pleased with himself.

Unsettled and bewildered, PLAYMAKER leans forward in the chair. "What do you gain by telling me all this?"

"I've suspected for some time that we may be a lot less different than you'd have me believe. I simply wish to break down these barriers that divide us. How old are you anyway, Anon-san?"

You have no reason to trust anything he says. This is the leader of the Knights of Hanoi. This is your enemy. It would be to his benefit to lie to you.

"I'm not telling you that." A pause. "If you want to know me better then it will have to be as your adversary on the battlefield. Prove your strength as a duelist by facing me. Cure BLUE ANGEL of the virus your shady organization inflicted upon her mind. I have no interest in your childish games."

PLAYMAKER logs out, dissolving into azure pixels.

011010010110111001100111001000000110011001101111011100100010000001110011

When he meets REVOLVER again it's on a D-Board with a wild data storm swirling around them. REVOLVER is back to playing the villain, taunting PLAYMAKER relentlessly, saying the Hero of LINK VRAINS should be able to put up a better fight than 'this'. 

"You'll eat those words, Hanoi," PLAYMAKER announces with valiant confidence, knowing that they're being watched and possibly filmed by the charisma duelist streaming services. "And when I defeat you, I'll force you to cure BLUE ANGEL!"

"Then come at me with everything you've got, PLAYMAKER!"

011001010110001101110010011001010111010000100000011011010110010101110011

For all his taunting and posturing, REVOLVER is a worthwhile opponent, definitely more than PLAYMAKER gave credit for at the club. Dueling REVOLVER is exhilarating; a feeling Yusaku hasn't known since before the Lost Incident and didn't expect to associate with dueling ever again. 

PLAYMAKER is genuinely impressed, if a bit unnerved, when REVOLVER's field spell _Fire Prison_ makes all his Cyberse monsters vanish, rendering them completely useless. There's even an extended moment where Yusaku fears he'll lose. But with his fear comes great respect for his opponent and a realization that underestimating REVOLVER is a mistake he can't afford to make again.

When PLAYMAKER activates _Cynet Universe_ , REVOLVER's _Fire Prison_ destroys itself, showering them both with embers. Several turns later he has REVOLVER on the ropes, having returned his Cyberse monsters to the field, and stopped REVOLVER from destroying them several times over. He activates _Battle Buffer_ to negate the effects of REVOLVER's monsters while strengthening his own, and banishes _Parallel Port Armor_ from his graveyard to activate its secondary effect to power them up even further.

To REVOLVER's stunned horror, PLAYMAKER announces that he can bypass REVOLVER's Borreload Dragon to attack _twice_.

With REVOLVER wide open for direct attack, PLAYMAKER uses the great monster he pulled from STORM ACCESS to obliterate all of REVOLVER's life points in one fiery blast.

"Go Firewall Dragon! Tempest Attack!!!"

011100110110000101100111011001010111001100100000011010010110111000100000

At midnight PLAYMAKER makes his way back to The Tower of Heaven. He doesn't really know _why_ he's going back to such a shady place. But for reasons he's honestly too exhausted to begin to rationalize —even though he really _should_ — he finds himself passing through the crowded host club to _that room_ on the second floor.

"REVOLVER-sama is waiting for you inside," says the guard in a blatantly jealous tone.

PLAYMAKER doesn't acknowledge the guard, brushing past him and shutting the door roughly.

He catches REVOLVER staring at him. He's seated at the bar reviewing several floating message boxes; he closes all of them at once with a wave of his hand.

"Hey," greets PLAYMAKER awkwardly, taking a seat in one of the armchairs.

"You're here. Again."

"Yeah."

REVOLVER joins him, dropping into the other armchair and folding his gloved hands in his lap. "Anyone give you trouble?"

"No, but since I'm not popular around here, I imagine you ordered them to leave me alone."

REVOLVER shrugs. "Something like that."

Silence passes between them for a bit too long. PLAYMAKER resists the urge to fidget.

"You know you were quite impressive today, Anon-san. I knew that you were strong but to see you pull such a powerful monster from the data storm gave me chills."

"It's a speed duel skill. There's nothing impressive about that."

"Don't be so modest. Most duelists can't even handle the data storm's winds, let alone access its secrets. You're an abnormally strong duelist. Anyone can see that."

PLAYMAKER gives a shrug of his own. "Don't flatter me."

"It's not flattery. It's fact. There's something… _different_ … about you."

Yusaku, feeling the conversation headed in the wrong direction again, tries to divert it. "You fought as expected for the leader of the Knights of Hanoi, making it so your Borreload Dragon couldn't be destroyed, keeping all your life points until the end. I would have lost had I not drawn such a perfect hand."

REVOLVER chuckles softly, drumming his fingers on his knee. "My monsters were far less impressive than the 7200 ATK _you_ managed. LINK VRAINS rarely sees that level of power. And the way you combined it with the effect of _Parallel Port Armor_..."

PLAYMAKER nods, allowing himself to lean back in the chair completely.

"My organization has been hunting the Cyberse monsters for so long that we thought them to be extinct. Undeniably we were wrong." REVOLVER cracks a smile in reverence. "Even though it resulted in my loss today, in a way I'm glad that a creature as beautiful as Firewall Dragon was still there for you to access."

PLAYMAKER notices the slip. "Why are the Knights hunting the Cyberse?"

REVOLVER's smile fades. "That's classified. I can't discuss operations with you for obvious reasons."

"Obvious reasons," repeats PLAYMAKER.

"I was right about us meeting again, wasn't I?" REVOLVER says, seemingly making his own deflection attempts.

"Don't make assumptions. I only came back here because you cured BLUE ANGEL."

"I'm an honorable person, Anon-san. I keep my promises. You wished her cured so I gave you the removal program."

"There's no victory in pettiness," says PLAYMAKER.

"Besides, that was a nasty bit of business," REVOLVER says with a noticeable tinge of contempt. "It wasn't my idea. With an organization so large we were bound to acquire a few sadists."

"You don't approve of your own organization?"

"Overpowering other people by force.... That's not how I conduct operations. You're here by choice, aren't you?"

PLAYMAKER narrows his brows. "You _did_ overpower me by force…."

"We've been over this, Anon-san… I'm not going to apologize for it. And given the fact that your arrogant A.I. program _ate my arm_ I think we're more than even."

"I'm sorry about Ai… I didn't think about the lasting mental damage."

"You call it Ai? That's almost cute."

"Ai _is_ arrogant. It acts on its own almost like it's…"

"Alive?" supplies REVOLVER.

PLAYMAKER nods. "I still don't believe that an A.I. can be alive, but I've seen a lot of strange things lately so I'm willing to at least consider the possibility."

REVOLVER's fingers grip his knee tightly. "Anytime you're ready to surrender IGNIS over to us I will be _more than happy_ to receive it."

PLAYMAKER shakes his head. "Someone helped you escape. Who was that?"

"Also classified. But," REVOLVER's tone turns teasing. "I _might_ be willing to share that information with you if we were to meet in person."

PLAYMAKER can't stop the exasperated smile that momentarily appears on his face. "I'm not meeting you offline."

REVOLVER laughs. It's the same haughty laugh that PLAYMAKER remembers from that _first_ night, but now it's almost charming. "Afraid I'll find out you're some old geezer playing teenage superhero?"

"That would be quite the twist, wouldn't it?" says PLAYMAKER, playing along. "It is _so very easy_ to impersonate another user's avatar."

REVOLVER continues to laugh but eventually composes himself. "I like you, Anon-san. I really do. It's a shame we have such opposing views."

PLAYMAKER rises from the chair, turning toward the door. "Yes, it's a shame you're on the wrong side."

"Ever the hero.... Are you leaving?" PLAYMAKER turns back, staring intently again as REVOLVER catches his wrist and gently pulls him forward. "Come back tomorrow night. I'll be here at 10."

PLAYMAKER yanks his arm away. "I'll think about it."

REVOLVER nods then snaps his gloved fingers; a faintly glowing card materializes between them. "Take this."

PLAYMAKER examines the card, frowning. " _Hack Worm_?"

"It's a backdoor exploit. Use it to warp directly to this room."

"How do I know this isn't another one of your organization's mind viruses?"

"You distrust me that much, Anon-san? Even after our duel?"

"Yes."

After an extended moment of silence between them, PLAYMAKER takes the card and places it in his avatar inventory, and before REVOLVER can say another word, PLAYMAKER logs out.

011101000110100001101001011100110010000001110111011000010110110001101100

The following day PLAYMAKER battles a rogue attack from a dozen Hanoi lackeys. Although they manage to lower his life points by half, he slashes them into submission with Decode Talker and logs out to a chorus of cheers.

Yusaku steps out of the access terminal a bit tired but thoroughly bored. Kusanagi hands him a cup of warm coffee which he sips while replaying the attack in his mind.

Even in large numbers the Knights aren't much of a challenge. He craves a real opponent, and now he knows where he can find one.

001000000110111101100110001000000110001001101001011011100110000101110010

"So you've returned," says REVOLVER when PLAYMAKER materializes in the blacklight room at 10:20 that night.

PLAYMAKER, feeling a bit out of his element, only nods. He takes his usual seat, watching REVOLVER.

"Want a drink?"

PLAYMAKER nods, curt. REVOLVER can't spike a drink that doesn't actually exist.

REVOLVER isn't wearing his mask. PLAYMAKER bites his lip at the memory of their kiss.

REVOLVER crosses over to the bar. A dark bottle and a pair of scotch glasses materialize on the counter. REVOLVER fills each of the glasses to halfway, then crosses back over to PLAYMAKER. "Here," he says, offering a glass.

PLAYMAKER takes the glass, gazing down into the dark liquid then back up at REVOLVER who shakes his head slowly before downing half his glass and settling into the other armchair.

PLAYMAKER sniffs the alcohol tentatively before taking a sip, a bit surprised that that a virtual drink has a scent or taste at all. It burns as expected, but for the sake of not appearing weak before REVOLVER, he downs a quarter of the glass.

"So what brought you back?" REVOLVER asks, resting his glass on a raised leg, the vision of casual. "This time, I mean."

PLAYMAKER tilts his head, not sure what to make of REVOLVER. "You impressed me in our duel."

"You said as much last time you were here."

"I did, but the Knights I faced today weren't a challenge at all. I'll admit that after our duel, they were… disappointing."

"Were they? I sent out our best Knights."

"They have decent decks, but their attack patterns are predictable."

"Predictable? Hmm." REVOLVER downs the rest of his glass then sets it on the arm of the chair. It pixelates then vanishes. "I suppose that's unavoidable. They're soldiers. They don't have strategies of their own."

PLAYMAKER frowns, taking a long sip of the alcohol. "A readable opponent is a boring opponent."

"Is that so? Do you desire an opponent who can surprise you? Thrill you? _Like me_?"

REVOLVER's predatory grin arouses PLAYMAKER's cock, and he shifts in the chair uncomfortably, downing the rest of the glass in one go. He instantly regrets it, coughs violently, the alcohol burning his nose and throat. The empty glass vanishes from his hand.

"Take it easy, Anon-san," REVOLVER says, sounding all at once haughty and condescending. "One would think you'd never had alcohol before."

"Shut up," PLAYMAKER answers automatically, feeling heat on his neck, ears and cheeks.

REVOLVER laughs and PLAYMAKER gives him his best glare. The powerful REVOLVER he faced on the battlefield is beginning to feel like a dream.

"May I kiss you?" REVOLVER abruptly asks, his mirth gone, a serious expression falling into place over his face like a second mask.

"What? Why?" PLAYMAKER hates how breathless he sounds, completely caught off guard.

REVOLVER is centimeters away from PLAYMAKER's face so swiftly that the motion makes PLAYMAKER dizzy.

"Must I have a reason for wanting to kiss you?," REVOLVER asks flatly, his breath ghosting over PLAYMAKER's lips, his gloved fingers tipping up PLAYMAKER's chin. "I'm selfish. Indulge me?"

The moment that PLAYMAKER nods his consent, REVOLVER's lips are on his and he's being kissed with such wild passion that he can't help being swept up into it.

At some point between REVOLVER's tongue ravishing his mouth and PLAYMAKER answering the kiss in earnest, PLAYMAKER realizes that REVOLVER has walked them to the bed. He allows REVOLVER to drop him onto it, and watches with barely disguised lust as REVOLVER lowers himself down above him.

"Anon… san…"

The aroused husk in REVOLVER's voice is enough to pull a nearly inaudible groan from PLAYMAKER's lips and he swallows.

"I want to.." REVOLVER pauses, wetting his lips, much too obviously aroused. "I want to take your avatar from behind and…" Another heavy pause. "Fuck its ridiculously erotic body until we're both thoroughly spent… if that's acceptable."

PLAYMAKER fails to swallow down a needy moan. He recalls REVOLVER's hands around his cock, REVOLVER's fingers on his bare back, REVOLVER's teeth on his shoulder....

PLAYMAKER's eyes half close in his arousal and he nods eagerly.

"Thank you," REVOLVER sighs out, shifting above him. "Toward the headboard."

PLAYMAKER can't tell if it's a command or a suggestion but in this state of mind he doesn't really care. He's so in need of unpredictability and distractions in his life that if REVOLVER decides to restrain and fondle him like last time he might not even resist. It's a vaguely terrifying thought that soon gets lost in the haze of his arousal.

PLAYMAKER moves back toward the headboard, wondering what REVOLVER will do or say next.

"Take off your clothes."

PLAYMAKER begins to make the shortcut gesture to unequip his 'armor' but REVOLVER catches his wrist, shaking his head.

"No, strip for me like it's real."

PLAYMAKER makes a face of bewilderment but he reaches for the nape of his neck and feels around for the hidden zipper pull.

Watching REVOLVER all the while, PLAYMAKER pulls down the zipper to its lowest point and then slips off the sleeves, raising his hips to ease the fabric down past his hips and then around his thighs and knees. He yanks the pooling fabric off his feet, and, bringing his knees together, opens his avatar inventory window and drops in the bodysuit.

"That was unnecessarily complex," mumbles PLAYMAKER, heat rising all over his naked body, a tinge of pink that was definitely programmed for effect rather than as a representation of reality.

"Does your real body look like this one, Anon-san?" REVOLVER does not hide his arousal; it drips off every word like syrup. "Even a little bit?"

It's a minor detail that REVOLVER can't use to find his real body, and yet….

"PLAYMAKER's waist is smaller and his limbs are thinner. He's got a handsome face, but his figure is somewhat feminine, isn't it?"

"Are you not beautiful yourself, Anon-san? Surely you must be at least passable, most high school boys and college students are. A cold beauty with an intimidating stare who all the boys and girls in class are intrigued by. Seems uninterested in other people, won't let anyone too close, doesn't trust other people. Often detached from the lesson, and quietly counts down the minutes until class is over so he can escape to LINK VRAINS. The handsome mystery boy, am I right?"

PLAYMAKER is definitely red now, but it's from rising anger, not embarrassment or arousal. Emerging from the haze into sobering clarity, PLAYMAKER realizes that he's unknowingly given REVOLVER a means to manipulate him. PLAYMAKER's thoughts rapidly spiral down.

He can't know _anything_ about you! **RUN!**

Before he can give anything away, PLAYMAKER logs out.

011110010010000001110111011010000110010101101110001000000111100101101111

20:15:07 user_unknown:

Will you be by later?

PLAYMAKER takes one glance at the message, sighing heavily before closing it. To his annoyance the message window pops back up.

20:15:14 user_unknown:

Listen, I admit I said too much the other night and wish to apologize. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.

20:15:20 user_unknown:

I want to see you.

20:15:23 user_unknown:

I'll be waiting.

20:15:24 system message:

User has disconnected from the messaging system.

When PLAYMAKER goes to close the message window again it pops back up. He's about to give REVOLVER a piece of his mind but calms down when he realizes it's only Kusanagi.

20:15:26 user_unknown:

Your avatar has been idling in that spot for a whole minute. You OK? Log out for dinner?

20:15:32 PLAYMAKER:

I'm fine. Let's find that data bank.

20:15:37 user_unknown:

Well if you're sure....... Head left. Then make a right past the bridge. Be careful.

20:15:40 PLAYMAKER:

Careful? Any Hanoi around?

20:15:44 user_unknown:

Nah it's just a troll. Duel monster kind not internet kind LOL Still it's got 2500 ATK and 3000 DEF so... Don't rush into dangerous situations if you can avoid them.

For a moment PLAYMAKER freezes, wondering if Kusanagi _knows_.

011101010010000001100011011011110111010101101100011001000010000001100010

PLAYMAKER's not sold on the whole REVOLVER wanting to get to know him thing, and his agreement to _this_ is shaky at best.

"You're a strong duelist, and I look forward to our next duel, but you don't know me and I don't want to know you on any level deeper than as someone to battle, whether that be in duels or in _here_. If you dare think you can use sex to trick me into giving away real world information...."

"I was acting out of habit. Standard intelligence gathering tactic. Won't happen again."

The cold stare PLAYMAKER gives REVOLVER says much more than any words ever could.

REVOLVER clears his throat. "So can we…?"

"Not tonight."

REVOLVER nods, visibly disappointed. "Good night then."

011001010010000001110010011001010110000101100100011010010110111001100111

It's another five nights before PLAYMAKER returns to The Tower of Heaven. He still hasn't really forgiven REVOLVER, but he's spent seven nights in a row infiltrating SOL Technologies's remote databanks with Kusanagi's guidance only to come up empty handed. He needs information on the Lost Incident, he knows that the Knights of Hanoi are connected to it in some way, and he's desperate enough for that missing information to willingly seek out REVOLVER's help.

REVOLVER isn't here though. Not surprising after PLAYMAKER ignored him for nearly a week.

PLAYMAKER opens the door of Room 18 to the second floor, his senses immediately assaulted by a thick fog of cigarette smoke and a nerve grating constant ringing and clinking. PLAYMAKER, leaning over the golden railing, is confused to see a sea of casino slot machines.

Rushing around the second floor to the staircase, PLAYMAKER fails to spot REVOLVER. He does however see a pair of telltale white robes by the bar, and after hurrying down the stairs, slides up to them.

"Where's your master?" PLAYMAKER asks, coldly.

"Oh looking for REVOLVER-sama are you? Last saw him by the card tables."

"Which way?"

The Knights share a look before one downs his glass of what PLAYMAKER thinks is vodka and the other lets out a bark of laughter, rubbing his crotch.

"Why bother REVOLVER-sama at all? You could play with us. We'll even let you kick us around a bit beforehand. Everyone likes a bit of foreplay, right?"

PLAYMAKER makes a face of revulsion before stalking off to find REVOLVER on his own.

With aisles of golden slot machines filling the club now, it's impossible to see the other side of the floor. The hosts hang off the arms of gambling avatars, urging them to keep playing. They're dressed like circus ringmasters now, with bright red corsets, extremely short shorts and high heel boots. There are even a few dressed like burlesque acrobats and clowns.

He trudges through the crowd of smoke, drunkenness and high-pitched laughter, growing more and more irritated by the second.

Finally he spots REVOLVER at a crowded card table in a corner of the floor, sitting in the lap of a rather burly anthropomorphic gray fox. His mask is off, discarded on the table. The fox avatar holds a fan of playing cards in one hand, his other hand wrapped firmly around REVOLVER's waist. REVOLVER whispers something in the avatar's ear and points to the cards in his hand.

Something about the sight fills PLAYMAKER with a hot anger that settles into his gut. He's about to log out when REVOLVER notices him and motions for him to come over. Grudgingly he makes his way over to the table.

"Oi Rev, who's your friend?" says the fox with a rumbling slur.

"Surely you know PLAYMAKER?"

"Can't say I do. He's cute. Does he want to play with us?" The fox leers at PLAYMAKER.

REVOLVER smirks, wrapping an arm around the fox's thick neck. "How about it, PLAYMAKER? Want to go a round?"

The meaning is so obviously sexual that PLAYMAKER chooses to interpret it literally and drops himself into an empty chair at the table, turning to the dealer with utmost seriousness. "Deal me in."

The fox laughs, taking a swig from a thin dark bottle and thumping it back on the table. The avatars around the table laugh too. "I like your friend already, Rev."

"You know how to play blackjack?" REVOLVER asks with intrigue, seemingly ignoring the fox and the crowd now that PLAYMAKER is around.

PLAYMAKER picks up the cards he's been dealt, giving them a glance. "I have questions, REVOLVER."

"Questions? Whatever about?"

"The incident 10 years ago. I know your organization was involved."

"What's he on about, Rev?" mumbles the fox, taking a swig of his drink.

REVOLVER blatantly shoves the fox back, forcing his arm to drop, then he slides into the seat next to PLAYMAKER, whispering softly, "I do know _something_ about it, but _this_ isn't the place to discuss that.."

"Where's _the place_?" demands PLAYMAKER in a near shout.

"You _know_ where it is."

PLAYMAKER grits his teeth. He's had enough of these mind games, but if this is the only way to get REVOLVER to cooperate then…

"If I beat you in this game you _will_ answer my questions. All of them."

"Very well," whispers REVOLVER before he turns to the crowd around the table, announcing loudly, "I'm joining the game."

The crowd cheers and claps. PLAYMAKER notices a few Knights pushing their way to the front to watch.

REVOLVER moves into an empty seat directly across the table from PLAYMAKER.

REVOLVER smiles in challenge. "Deal me in. Best of five?"

PLAYMAKER nods.

"Let's do away with the traditional rules. In each round we'll be dealt 3 cards to start. We'll play against each other, not the dealer. High card wins. Should we tie or bust the round won't count. Agreed?"

The other players immediately return their cards to the dealer, leaving only PLAYMAKER and REVOLVER.

The game commences with PLAYMAKER going first. He has an ace, a 3 and a 5 for a total of 8 or 18. He'll need another ace to be safe at 18, or a 2 or 3 to win the round. He's at a severe disadvantage and he knows it. He could choose to stand at 18 and hope REVOLVER busts or he could risk busting and hit.

"Stand."

"A strong hand already, PLAYMAKER?" says REVOLVER with delight. "Hit." The dealer deals REVOLVER another card. "Stand."

A couple of anthropomorphic cats lean close to REVOLVER, their paws dangling over his shoulders. At their sides a wall of Knights emerge from the crowd. It's all very suspicious; PLAYMAKER wouldn't put it past REVOLVER to place spies in the crowd to help him cheat, so he tilts his cards downward so only he can see them.

"Reveal your cards," says the dealer.

PLAYMAKER turns over his 18.

REVOLVER has 20, and he's smirking. "The round goes to me?"

On the next round PLAYMAKER is dealt a 4, a 6 and a 2. He hits and gets an 8. He stands.

REVOLVER hums when he's dealt his cards and chooses to hit. He stands.

"Reveal your cards," says the dealer.

PLAYMAKER flips over his 20. REVOLVER flips over 19. PLAYMAKER smiles a bit at his win.

On the third round PLAYMAKER is dealt a queen, a king and a 2. Instant bust. Revolver turns over 21.

The score is 2 REVOLVER to 1 PLAYMAKER and two rounds to go. He can't lose. He must not.

After the fourth round's cards have been dealt, REVOLVER leans over to whisper to the dealer. The dealer blinks rapidly with surprise and nods then leans over to PLAYMAKER and says, "REVOLVER-sama says that if you win the game he'll answer any questions you may have. But if he wins you'll forgive him and let him lead you."

PLAYMAKER narrows his gaze at REVOLVER, and then, clearly against his better judgment, he nods. REVOLVER leans his chin on his hand, obscuring his mouth with his knuckles.

PLAYMAKER's dealt a 7, a 4 and a jack. He'll win unless REVOLVER ties him.

When REVOLVER is dealt his next hand, PLAYMAKER catches him smiling through a gap in his fingers, and wonders if REVOLVER got 21 too.

But when the cards are revealed, REVOLVER has 20 and PLAYMAKER's 21 wins the round.

"Well this is exciting, isn't it PLAYMAKER? It's a tie and this is the final round. Feeling nervous?"

"Never," answers PLAYMAKER automatically, challenge burning in his eyes.

"Deal the cards then, dealer."

PLAYMAKER stares at REVOLVER while the cards are dealt. When he looks down at his cards he has a 2, a 4 and a 6. "Hit," he says, locking gazes with REVOLVER. A 3. "Hit." A 4. "Hit." An ace. "Stand." 20 is a safe place to be, but REVOLVER has been very lucky in the game and PLAYMAKER can't help the feeling of dread that passing through him at the thought that REVOLVER might win.

REVOLVER's cards are dealt. "Hit. Hit." A pause. The smile dissolves into a hard line. "Hit." Another pause. "Stand." REVOLVER's lips upturn in such a way that his teeth are bared.

It's the most predatory smile PLAYMAKER has seen on REVOLVER yet; PLAYMAKER knows he's lost. REVOLVER set a trap for him and he fell right into it. "Damn it," PLAYMAKER murmurs under his breath, clenching the cards in his hand.

"Reveal your cards," says the dealer.

"20," says PLAYMAKER.

"21," says REVOLVER.

The crowd around the table erupts into applause and cheering. The Knights congratulate their leader. A white-haired man in an equally white suit leers at PLAYMAKER.

REVOLVER nods to him from across the table. PLAYMAKER nods back. REVOLVER pulls away from the crowd, the white-suited man bowing as REVOLVER passes him, and PLAYMAKER follows REVOLVER back to Room 18.

001000000111010001101000011010010111001100100000011001100110000101101110

"It was a close game, but I won."

"You got lucky."

"Regardless, you lost. Your questions will have to wait for another time. Strip."

PLAYMAKER sighs in frustration, unequipping the bodysuit and dumping his nakedness onto the bed. "I forgive you."

"Do you really?"

PLAYMAKER doesn't respond. He lost. With his whole purpose for being here cast aside he's rather disinterested in anything REVOLVER wants.

REVOLVER begins to disrobe. His avatar armor consists of layers of excess that PLAYMAKER thinks would be inconvenient to put on piece by piece if it were real. And yet rather than unequip it and save time, REVOLVER undoes every snap, clasp and zipper with precision and care.

"Are you doing this because you want me to watch?" inquires PLAYMAKER in the most bored of tones.

REVOLVER's coat falls to the floor. "Do you not appreciate the gradual exposure of skin, or the reward of seeing it all unwrapped after waiting?"

"I don't care for delayed gratification. Or foreplay for that matter."

"That's a shame. A reward is all the sweeter when one has waited for it."

"It's a waste of time. Why wait when you can just get to it? Why play along in someone else's game when you can force them to give you want you want?"

"It seems that we think differently. I enjoy a well fought battle against a worthy opponent."

PLAYMAKER wonders if all of this, including the prying and apologizing and bothering and posturing and teasing, is one big game for REVOLVER.

"I don't appreciate being toyed with. Either get to it or I'm out of here, and you can have your _worthy opponent_ face you in another duel."

"I don't doubt your threat, Anon-san."

PLAYMAKER doesn't have an intelligent response for that so he sighs and watches as REVOLVER steps out of his boots.

"Tell me, Anon-san, how long have you been into boys?"

It's such an abrupt subject change that PLAYMAKER almost stumbles over his response. 

"What is this random line of questioning?"

"Too personal?"

PLAYMAKER sighs, exasperated. "Girls never interested me. They're pretty like flowers but aren't remotely attractive."

"And how do you see boys?"

"Strength, muscle tone, sharp angles."

"Is that how you see me?"

PLAYMAKER purses his lips together into the thinnest of lines. "No. I see you as an idiot who talks too much and is taking far too long disrobing himself of _virtual_ clothing."

PLAYMAKER expects REVOLVER to laugh at that but he's oddly quiet. A moment later REVOLVER makes the unequip gesture and his robes pixelate and then dematerialize all at once. What's left is a subtly tanned masculine but thin body free of scarring or imperfections. For some reason, which he supposes was quite foolish to expect in hindsight, PLAYMAKER thought he'd see the battle-worn body of a soldier or hard criminal.

"Unimpressed?" says REVOLVER in the flattest of tones.

"Surprised," corrects PLAYMAKER. "It's so… normal."

"It's data. A doll."

"I suppose I was picturing something else."

A hint of mischief creeps back into REVOLVER's voice. "You've been thinking about me?"

"Shut up," snaps PLAYMAKER. "It's classically attractive. Let's leave it at that."

"Classically attractive," repeats REVOLVER, sinking down onto the bed and setting his hand on top of PLAYMAKER's.

"You're very annoying. Hurry up."

"I love that you're so eager."

"It's not eagerness, it's irri-"

REVOLVER cuts him off with a kiss, a heated and impassioned thing that begins with them sitting and ends with PLAYMAKER flat on his back with REVOLVER pinning his wrists above his head.

"I'm going to suck you off now," says REVOLVER after he's broken the kiss, a string of saliva dripping down REVOLVER's chin. PLAYMAKER, flushed and a bit breathless, nods.

Without another word, REVOLVER parts PLAYMAKER's knees. There's no experimental lick, no hesitation, no easing into it, just REVOLVER taking in the full length of PLAYMAKER's cock all at once.

PLAYMAKER is shocked at how thoroughly REVOLVER has abandoned his slow reveal for better rewards philosophy. He's giving PLAYMAKER exactly what he asked for: full force, deep throat, vigorous sucking, raw, hurried. But PLAYMAKER's not hard and the oral ministrations are too chaotic and forced to arouse him. PLAYMAKER can't believe he's saying it but…

"That's not working," PLAYMAKER hisses through his teeth.

REVOLVER breaks away, smirking. "You were saying?"

PLAYMAKER sighs, extremely annoyed. "I was wrong."

PLAYMAKER doesn't have to look at REVOLVER to know he's pleased, he can hear it in his voice. "You'll let me do this my way?"

PLAYMAKER closes his eyes, trying not to huff, his arm settling over his forehead. "You requested it during the game. None of this is about what I want, is it?"

"I was trying to fire you up at the time, but, yes, I did make that request. You won't protest?"

PLAYMAKER nearly tells him to shut up and hurry again, but he realizes that, no, that's not what he wants at all. So then…

"Do what you want."

PLAYMAKER feels the bed shift and then hears REVOLVER's feet pattering on the carpet. There's a creaking open of a cabinet and a clinking of bottles. PLAYMAKER lifts up his arm and opens one eye, seeing REVOLVER over by the bar.

REVOLVER makes several trips from the bar to the bed, dropping various objects onto the sheets. PLAYMAKER sits up, picking up one of the objects, examining it.

"What do we need lube for?"

"Realism. May be virtual but it feels better."

"And how would you know that?"

"I've tested it on myself."

An image of REVOLVER with his fingers slick with lube, yanking himself, breathing harsh fills PLAYMAKER's head. He gulps down a reactionary moan, his cock twitching. All right _now_ he's interested.

Among the other objects is a pair of metallic wrist cuffs, a pair of what appear to be large stickers in the shape of stars, a remote, an abstract dildo, no, dildo vibrator.

But it's one object in particular that draws PLAYMAKER's attention: a black blindfold.

PLAYMAKER shudders at the thought of being blindfolded; fragments of childhood memories rise to the surface, reminding him of a time when he wasn't in control, when he couldn't consent, when he was trapped and caged like an animal, forced to fight to life. If REVOLVER insists on blindfolding him…..

Swallowing down his anxiety and willing it not to be noticeable in his voice, PLAYMAKER asks softly, "Where does this all come from? I thought equipables weren't allowed."

"Equipables native to a private server can't be taken out of the server, just as equipables from outside a private server can't be brought in."

It's a simple enough explanation, but there's a sense of foreboding that passes through Yusaku's mind at the thought that there could be _anything_ in this private server. He's completely ignorant to hidden dangers and traps. If the change from host club to casino is any indication then the environment itself isn't a known factor.

REVOLVER makes a final trip to the bar, this time pouring a glass of what is surely alcohol. He returns to the bed, the single glass in his hand. "Drink. It'll help."

PLAYMAKER takes the glass, wary. They share a long look before PLAYMAKER decides to trust REVOLVER enough to taste it. He expects bitter but it isn't particularly awful.

REVOLVER busies himself with arranging the objects on the bed, so PLAYMAKER downs the glass. It dematerializes as expected. He feels a sense of calm settling over him, like his mind has been momentarily lifted of its burdens.

While Yusaku puzzles out the mechanics of the calming effects of virtual alchohol, REVOLVER grasps PLAYMAKER's hands and snaps on a pair of wrist cuffs, linking them together. He tightens the slack a bit and gives the links a light tug. "Not too tight?"

PLAYMAKER pulls against the restraints. They aren't actually that tight, he could probably slip out of them if he really wanted to. "Doesn't hurt."

REVOLVER kisses him again, this time cupping the back of PLAYMAKER's head. When he breaks it, he orders in a whisper, "Lie back down. Hands over your head."

"The cuffs are all right, but I will not be blindfolded," PLAYMAKER states firmly, settling his arms comfortably above his head.

REVOLVER gives him a strange look, his bare brows crinkling in deep thought. PLAYMAKER assumes he isn't pleased, but then he surprises by saying, "It's not for you."

"It's not?"

REVOLVER covers his eyes with his hand. "I cannot change this body's appearance at its most basic level, not without assuming an entirely different identity."

Without the soulless opaque glowing golden eyes REVOLVER instantly appears more human, more approachable, more attractive.

"And the rest of it?"

"Now who's talking too much?"

PLAYMAKER bites his lip, mapping out constellations in the fluorescent canopy, only now noticing how the galaxy pattern appears to twinkle in the blacklight. So much of this experience is otherworldly, a fantasy that only exists in this room. He glances up at REVOLVER and wonders what this person does in the real world; wonders if he's as commanding and cocky in his daily life. How much of the persona is an act? Would he, Yusaku, recognize this person by demeanor alone if he passed him on the street? If they went to the same high school? If they...

At some point PLAYMAKER realizes he must have gotten lost in thought because REVOLVER has already slicked his cock up with lube and is now busying himself with rubbing lube all over the dildo vibrator.

"Can I…?" begins PLAYMAKER, trailing off to silence. He doesn't really know what he was trying to ask, but somehow he feels like he should be doing _something_.

"Hmm? Say something?"

This is stupid. He's watched enough gay AV at home to know what's coming. He's acting like an inexperienced virgin. The fact that he _is_ an inexperienced virgin is beside the point…

"Hand me the lube," says PLAYMAKER, forcing authority into his voice, hoping he doesn't sound as stupid as he feels. He maneuvers his bound hands down to his thighs, expecting.

REVOLVER drops the vibrator on the bed, picking up the bottle of lube, uncapping it, and, after giving PLAYMAKER another strange look, pours the lube directly into PLAYMAKER's palms.

PLAYMAKER ignores his half hard cock which lays limp on his stomach, and goes directly for his hole, letting the lube drip down past his knuckles before sliding a slick finger inside. He sighs, catching REVOLVER's hungry gaze out of the corner of his eye, and adds a second, prodding them both deeper, stretching himself bit by bit. He's done this before at home but never with someone watching; he fights off his embarrassment by closing his eyes and adding a third. At this girth the stretch begins to hurt, but he swallows down sighs of pain, trying to add a fourth.

"Stop," comes REVOLVER's lustful husk. "A good effort, really hot actually, but I'll take over from here."

PLAYMAKER makes a sound of protest, but REVOLVER pulls out PLAYMAKER's fingers anyway, licking them, taking them into his mouth, sucking at them digit by digit, the lube escaping his lips and dripping down PLAYMAKER's palms toward his wrists. PLAYMAKER's cock twitches.

REVOLVER replaces the fingers with the vibrator, sliding it in deep. PLAYMAKER groans, and then when REVOLVER flips the switch a moment later, PLAYMAKER shrieks in surprise.

"Not so… high… yet..."

"I thought you could handle that."

The vibrations drop to a massaging, pleasureable pulse, and PLAYMAKER exhales, locking eyes with a very affected REVOLVER. "Push it deeper…"

"As you wish..." A pause while he presses in the toy, new vibrations that leave PLAYMAKER softly moaning into the pillow. "I really can't wait to fuck you… you're exquisite."

"A bit.. aaaah… higher…" PLAYMAKER breathes out, raising his hips a bit when the steady pulse becomes a hard buzz. He moans loudly, struggling against the restraints as he grips the sheets above his head, shutting his eyes sharply and submitting to the buzz that excites his cock to erection.

There's a wetness on his cock, followed by an intense warmth and a hand on the shaft. Now that he's aroused REVOLVER's tongue feels amazing. The dual sensation of the vibrator in his ass and his hard cock in REVOLVER's mouth causes him to buck his hips and cry out.

"Easy," teases REVOLVER, blowing on the head, pressing his tongue into the slit. "Don't want you cumming too soon. It's not even midnight yet."

The vibrations abruptly stop, and there's a residual rumble in his ass before it's completely gone. REVOLVER gives a hard suck to the head before backing off.

"I think you're ready," says REVOLVER with pleased lust, twisting the vibrator around as he pulls it out. "Fuck… the lube leaking out your pretty little hole is way too erotic. I may cum just watching you gap like this."

"Get on… with it.." says PLAYMAKER through soft gasps, his eye half-lidded, his cheeks and ears and nose and neck flushed.

"So eager…"

There's no denying it now, PLAYMAKER wants to be fucked, hard. He wants it more than anything else in the world. He needs release. "I want your cock… Revol..ver…"

REVOLVER freezes, as if he can't believe what he's hearing. PLAYMAKER wets his lips, shameless, needy, hard and leaking precum on his stomach.

"Fuck.. you're too erotic… just a second…"

REVOLVER picks up a sticker and places it over one of PLAYMAKER's stiff nipples. There's a sensation of cold metal that PLAYMAKER doesn't understand, and it's followed by a matching coldness when REVOLVER sticks the second sticker on his other nub. REVOLVER picks up the remote and a moment later the most pleasurable vibrations tickle PLAYMAKER's nipples.

"I remembered how sensitive you were last time," murmurs REVOLVER in a voice almost too low to be heard. He brushes his lips against PLAYMAKER's ear. "Here. Press the button to raise the power level." REVOLVER sets the remote in PLAYMAKER's hands and closes his fingers around them.

PLAYMAKER examines the remote, pressing its only button once. The vibrations become a teasing pulse and his breath hitches in his throat.

Distracted, PLAYMAKER nearly drops the remote in surprise when REVOLVER spreads his legs apart and begins to push in his hard cock.

"Even with prep you're still so tight...."

PLAYMAKER can only moan softly at the stretch. The toy didn't have this kind of girth, or this sort of texture.

REVOLVER eases in slowly, almost frustratingly slow, but the sensation of gradually being filled is just too good to protest. PLAYMAKER presses the button again, a soft cry escaping his lips at the raise to constant buzz on his nipples.

"I'm glad you… like it…" says REVOLVER between heavy breaths, halfway in, his fingers kneading PLAYMAKER's thighs. REVOLVER reaches for the blindfold and puts it on, masking half of his face in black.

PLAYMAKER traces the lines of REVOLVER's lips with his eyes, strangely turned on by the mysterious look the blindfold gives REVOLVER. To be fucked by a mystery man…

"Feels good… really good…"

"You know I… haaa so tight… I was secretly hoping to find a cute boy with sensitive nubs and a tight hole... You're a dream come true, Anon-san."

"It's not my… real… aaaa…"

"I know… I don't care.."

When REVOLVER pushes past that last ring of muscle and has fully sheathed within, he begins to roll his hips, shallow at first and then near withdrawals punctuated by deep, harsh thrusts.

PLAYMAKER can only moan as REVOLVER rocks above him, clenching his bound hands, pressing the button again.

"Aaaaaah.."

"Too lewd.." purrs REVOLVER, quickening the pace, thrusting faster and deeper, ripping moan after moan from PLAYMAKER's lips. "You're amazing.. an angel…"

"...no angel…" PLAYMAKER manages between harsh breaths and wanton moans.

"A devil then… a siren… mara… incubus…"

"None of… those… _you're_ the devil.. the demon in the blindfold…"

REVOLVER abruptly halts his thrusts. "Oh is that right? You want a demon? Turn over…" When PLAYMAKER does, on his knees, face balanced on his bound wrists, REVOLVER yanks the blindfold off his eyes and throws it onto the bed. He drives right back in, changing to brutal, punishing thrusts that have PLAYMAKER crying out over and over and over again.

"What a voice…" REVOLVER groans, his fingers digging into PLAYMAKER's hips.

PLAYMAKER, tipping his forehead into the pillow and raising his chin, his head rocked by every thrust, manages to maneuver his bound hands to his now numb nipples. He peels off the stickers, dropping them to the sheets, and turns his head to the side, saying through harsh pants, "Stickers… cock... "

REVOLVER halts his thrusts again. "What was that? Couldn't hear you."

PLAYMAKER takes a moment to catch his breath, spreading his legs apart just enough to create space to reach under him but not enough to lose his balance. "Put the stickers on my cock."

"Beg for it."

"What?"

"You want a demon? Then beg. for. it."

PLAYMAKER's so hard and in need of release that he almost can't bring himself to care anymore.

"Put the stickers on my cock… please.."

"Hmm.. no, that's not good enough… call me REVOLVER-sama."

 _Almost_.

PLAYMAKER makes an extremely frustrated noise into the pillow.

"Hmm… I think I might just leave you like this… unless you treat this demon with some respect."

PLAYMAKER tries to reach his cock but REVOLVER slaps his hands. PLAYMAKER makes another frustrated noise. REVOLVER resumes the punishing thrusts, grasping the base of PLAYMAKER's cock and squeezing.

"Only good boys get rewards. Say, "Please put the stickers on my cock, REVOLVER-sama.""

PLAYMAKER says something that sounds suspiciously like _bastard_ , but it's muffled by the pillow.

With the way REVOLVER's hand clamps down on PLAYMAKER's cock, tight grip, very reminiscent of last time, PLAYMAKER thinks he might cry.

So much for almost.......

"Please… put the… stickers… onnnnghhhhhhaaaaaa.. on my cock… Re.. re... re...volverrrrr...samaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh...."

REVOLVER chuckles, a breathy exhale more than a laugh. "Good boy." He slows his thrusts just long enough to reach under PLAYMAKER for the stickers, to press one just below the glans and to slap on the other just above the base of the shaft. "Where's the remote?"

PLAYMAKER retrieves it, pressing the button, his breath shaky. "…haaaaaannn..."

REVOLVER resumes the thrusts, now leaning over PLAYMAKER's back, his hands on PLAYMAKER's abs. "Do you like being treated roughly? Are you perhaps a bit of a masochist?"

PLAYMAKER's speech is too breathy to be understood. He presses the button and bucks back against REVOLVER, meeting his thrusts.

"You were right, Anon-san. This isn't the body of an angel. It's far too lewd and needy for that." REVOLVER's hot breath tickles the hairs at the nape of PLAYMAKER's neck. "I may be falling for you."

With the current punishing pace PLAYMAKER is shocked when REVOLVER manages to thrust into him even faster and harder and deeper.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!!" Every thrust is punctuated with PLAYMAKER's crys. "Ah!! Ahh!"

"Fuuuuuck Anon-san.... I love your voice... I love your... tight hole... I'm going to.. nghhhhh..."

"Ah! Ah! Ah!"

PLAYMAKER feels the rush of orgasm building within him. He's so close. Just a bit… more. He presses the button, taking the vibrations to their maximum setting and buries his face in his wrists, moaning wildly.

"Want to cum that badly, Anon-san? Cum with me then."

With the intense vibrations shaking his cock it only takes a few more thrusts to send PLAYMAKER over the threshold into body trembling orgasm. A moment later heat rushes into him, REVOLVER groaning above him, both of them struggling to catch their breaths in the seconds afterward.

PLAYMAKER's knees give out and he collapses into the sheets, taking REVOLVER down with him. He coughs violently, turning his head to the side for air. REVOLVER slips out of him, rolling onto the bed beside him and panting, coughing too.

The wrist cuffs and toys dematerialize a moment later, freeing PLAYMAKER's arms. With the orgasm still shaking throughout his body, PLAYMAKER takes a moment to consider that he's just been fucked in LINK VRAINS —it's a _virtual reality game_ so it shouldn't feel _so fucking real_ — as the anxious, wayward, dangerous thoughts begin to race through his mind.

They don't speak for a long while, PLAYMAKER staring ahead at the door. REVOLVER's arm drapes over PLAYMAKER's back and he grasps PLAYMAKER's hand.

One, none of this is real so don't be fooled, don't fall for it, don't trust, don't desire, don't reach out, don't be weak, don't put yourself in a position to lose, you must not lose....

"I won't be satisfied with just conversation now," says REVOLVER, his rough voice sounding garbled under the onslaught of PLAYMAKER's thoughts.

Two, who cares about honoring agreements? You're under no obligation to play his games. Force him to tell you what he knows…

REVOLVER's index finger draws circles on the back of PLAYMAKER's hand. "Not after that...."

Three, he's your enemy, destroy him.

"If you're asking if I'd be open to doing this again, no attachments, just sex, then I'm fine with that," says PLAYMAKER, refusing to look at REVOLVER lest he give the thoughts power over him. "None of this is real anyway."

REVOLVER's breath ghosts over PLAYMAKER's shoulder blades. "Yes but.. I want to know you. The real you."

An unwelcome burden settles in PLAYMAKER's chest, his heart beating erratically. A set of terrifyingly vulnerable thoughts drape over the previous ones, overtaking and replacing them.

I don't want to destroy him. I want to trust him. But what if he's lying?

"I _can't_ know you…"

But I want to be wanted and….. loved.

"Is this related to that incident ten years ago?" REVOLVER asks, sounding distant.

I can't.. it's too dangerous.

"Did you know one of the victims?" A drawn out pause during which REVOLVER's finger stills and PLAYMAKER's heart feels like it might burst. "Were _you_ one of the victims?"

He's figuring it out without you even saying anything. Think Yusaku! This is not the right person to spill your heart to. Take back control before it's too late!!

"If you won't answer my questions then there's no point in talking about it," PLAYMAKER says coldly, his defenses rapidly rebuilding.

Surprisingly REVOLVER sounds exhausted, defeated even. "....listen… I do know something… but this isn't the right time."

PLAYMAKER's gaze remains firmly on the door. "So you wouldn't have told me even if I had won the card game........"

REVOLVER is oddly silent, but his fingers close around PLAYMAKER's wrist.

In the heavy silence PLAYMAKER feels himself giving over to the growing need to confess _something_ when his thoughts derail upon noticing a series of 6 dark shapes on the back of REVOLVER's hand. 5 triangles and a diamond forming a much larger triangle.

"REVOLVER.... What's this symbol?"

REVOLVER suddenly snatches his hand away, the bed shifting under his weight. His tone becomes distant, anxious even.

"It's nothing important," REVOLVER says, the words suspiciously rushed. "A custom design on the avatar, nothing more."

PLAYMAKER fights off a wave of nausea, filling with dread and panic.

"How are you connected to the Hanoi Project?" PLAYMAKER presses on.

"I promise I'll tell you when the time is right, but it's late. I should go."

Panic swelling within him, PLAYMAKER jumps to a sitting position, turning to face REVOLVER, only to see vanishing pixels.

Devastated for some reason he can't even begin to fathom, PLAYMAKER stalks over to the bar and angrily smashes the first bottle he can get his hands around, screaming. 

011001100110100101100011011101000110100101101111011011100010000001101001

Back in the real world, Yusaku awakens to gross stickiness drying on his thighs. Fatigued, he stumbles to the shower, practically tearing off his pajamas before hurrying under the spray. 

You let someone in.

How could you be so stupid?

You got attached.

That person is using you.

But you miss him?

He's horrified to find himself sobbing, intense loneliness racking through his whole being, his body trembling, his fists smacking the tile repeatedly.

After swearing you'd never let anyone control you again....

You fucked up, Yusaku.

As he cries, he scrubs away the cum from his skin, the evidence of masturbation or whatever just happened washing away. He keeps scrubbing until it hurts, and then stands there under the spray for a long time, still and shivering.

01101110011100110111010001100101011000010110010000111111111111

When Yusaku returns to the computer console a long while later, there's an anonymous message flashing on the screen..

02:03:46 user_unknown: 

You'll find what you're looking for at SOL Technologies. I'll be in touch again soon. 

Yusaku reads the message two more times, telling himself that he _doesn't care_ , before suspending his computer, wishing only for dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to apologize if the tone shifted around a bit. I wrote the bulk of this fic from mid- July through early October so I had to heavily edit and revise it to comply with canon reveals.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


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